Cora dashed towards the water's edge and screamed frantically, "Cerberus! The child! Quickly! We must save her!"

The girl's pale lavender dress ballooned around her in the poor of the fountain. Her mousy brown hair drifted across the water's surface like seaweed.

Cerberus moved even faster than Cora. In one leap, he dove from behind her straight into the water. Cerberus landed with a loud splash and swiftly pulled the unconscious girl out of the fountain. No older than five or six years old, she was very slight of form. The dripping wet fabric from the child's pinafore dress puddled around her as Cerberus laid her gently on the ground. The girl's drenched hair clung to her skin while an alarmingly bluish gray tint colored her lips. Her facial features looked oddly familiar to Cora, as though she had seen the girl somewhere before, but she quickly brushed it off as a side effect from inheriting someone else's memories. There were, after all, far more urgent matters at hand.

Cora placed a finger under the girl's nostrils. She felt nothing. Cora then checked her pulse. Nothing again.

She whimpered in distress. "What should we do, Cerberus? The child... she is not breathing!"

Cerberus grimaced. Regret weighed upon his handsome face. "I am sorry, little gatekeeper, but I doubt there is anything we can do at this point. Poor thing must have drowned long before we ever arrived. Her death does not smell fresh to me. We were... too late."

Right as Cerberus finished speaking, the small child's eyes popped open. Cora shrieked. The child blinked in shock and sat up. Her brown eyes were the exact shade as Cora's dark amber irises.

"Who are you two?" the girl demanded in a frightened voice. "Where is my mama? Take me to my mama!"

Cora glanced to Cerberus in shock. In a high-pitched whisper, she hissed under her breath, "How is this possible, Cerberus? She has no pulse! How is she able to speak to us right now? Bloody hell. How is she even alive?"

"Oh, she is most definitely not alive," Cerberus replied calmly.

"So... she is... dead?"

"Not quite. She is what my comrades from the underworld might refer to as... undead."

Cora's mouth draped open. "Un... dead? Good lord. What does that even entail?"

"It sometimes happens to souls who remain unaware about their mortal demise. Their ignorance tethers them to their corpse and forces them roam around the gate in confusion, reliving the last moments of their deaths until realization finally sinks in," Cerberus explained in offhand tones. His crimson gaze drifted over the dark-haired girl with a pitying look. "That child very likely believes that she is still alive."

As Cora processed Cerberus' haunting statement with a feeling of sadness. This time, the melancholy was all her own. Cora studied the girl. All skin and bones. She carried blackened circles under her eyes. Her skin was chalk-white with tinges of grays and blues. The child looked very much like a walking corpse. She was trembling, too. Cora didn't know whether she was shivering from the cold or from fear. Her heart went out to the woeful little thing.

"Do not be afraid, child," Cora assured the girl in gentle tones. "Cerberus and I are here to help you. Tell me, what is your name?"

The girl stared back with a pouty expression. "Mama and papa told me not to talk to strangers, and you two are most certainly strangers."

"But," Cerberus pointed out, "you have already been talking to us! Surely, your mama and papa would see on harm in you making a new friend or two..."

The girl glared at him. "Why are your eyes so red? You do not look like a friendly man at all. In fact, you look quite wicked."

Cerberus growled, "Why, you pint-sized brat! I ought to—"

"Cerberus, stop!" Cora barked sharply. "Let me handle this. You are going to scare the girl!"

Cerberus muttered something rude under his breath, but he acquiesced her request and proceeded to take a few steps back. Though the hellhound uttered not another word, he continued to glower at Cora from his little corner as though she had gravely wronged him.

Cora ignored his hissy fit and turned back to the girl with a warm smile. "Did you say that you were looking for your mother?"

"Yes, miss."

"Good girl. I promise, sweetheart, we have no intention of harming you. My name is Cora, and I only wish to help you find your mother. "

The girl's eyes widened in delight. "Your name is 'Cora,' too?"

"Why, yes!" Cora exclaimed. "What a lovely coincidence! Are you named 'Cora' as well?"

The girl nodded with a shy smile. "Yes, miss. I am so pleased to meet you, Miss Cora."

A strange feeling of déjà vu rippled through Cora once more. There was something eerily recognizable about the girl's smile, and it had nothing to do with anyone else's stolen memories. Cora was almost certain that she had seen the girl's face somewhere before. Or were the borrowed memories simply becoming entangled with her own? Cora's brow creased with dismay. She was beginning to doubt her own sanity. It was a rather troubling thought. Cora decided to push it aside for the time being and instead focus on helping the girl reunite with her mother.

She dared to ask, "Who are you parents, Cora?"

Without a moment's hesitation, Little Cora answered proudly, "My parents are Theodore and Lianna Butters. Papa is most handsome and kind, and mama is the loveliest woman in the whole wide world."